Multiplayer Chronicles: Mombasa
by Sergeant Conley
Summary: A squad of Marines is trapped in a sector of Old Mombasa that's been sentenced to the Hammerdown Protocol. They have two days to escape before everything, literally, gets blown to hell. Part of the Multiplayer Chronicles started by Obsidian Thirteen.
1. The Arty Battery

Mombassa

**Mombassa**

**(Headlong/Turf)**

_**Disclaimer:**__ I do not own the Halo game series or the contents of its fictional univers. Those are owned by Bungie and Microsoft. Neither do I own the original Brutus "Brutal" Howell character, who is mental property of Stephen King. All other specific characters are of my creation, however._

"Three Queens." said Lance Corporal Joseph Carson as he added three facedown cards to a pile of more facedown cards. He and five other UNSC Marines were gathered around a box which served as the card table for their tent, which served as the sleeping quarters for 2nd Squad, 1st Platoon, Golf Company, 2nd Battalion of the 507th Marines Regiment. The six Marines gathered around the "card table" were in fact 2nd Squad's four riflemen and two close quarters combat (CQC) specialists. Carson was one of the two riflemen in Fire Team Charlie, his best friend Private Alton Foley was Charlie's CQC specialist.

"One Queen." Foley said as he took his turn and laid one card facedown in the pile.

"Bullshit." said Private Cotton, a rifleman in Fire Team Delta. Foley turned the card he'd just played over to reveal a Three of Diamonds, though the suit didn't matter. He grunted in frustration as he was forced to take back the card as well as the whole facedown pile and add it to his hand.

"Two Aces." said Private First Class Copeland, the Delta Team CQC specialist.

"Bullshit." replied Private Kelly "Legs" Leggard, the other Charlie Team rifleman and easily the more attractive of the two women in 2nd Squad. Copeland made a buzzer sound with his mouth before turning the cards over and showing off two Aces.

"Wrong." he said before Legs took them and added them to her hand.

"So who's winnin'?" asked a new Marine as he entered the tent through its flap.

"Wesker." Foley said as he used his cigarette to point out the second Delta rifleman, who grinned with pride as he showed off his two-card hand. "You gonna join in the next one Hatch?" Foley asked the new arrival.

"Naw, I'll pass." said Corporal David "Hatch" Hatcher, the Fire Team Charlie Leader. Before anyone could make another move, the other female Marine entered.

"2nd Squad! Brutal wants to see us outside, now!" cried Corporal Valance, the Fire Team Delta Leader. Moaning, groaning, and protesting the Marines dropped their cards and exited their tent to find Brutal.

Sergeant Brutus Howell took a drag on his cigarette as he waited for the two fire teams in his squad. He was a big man in his thirties, his hair was naturally white due to a pigment mutation similar to albinism. It contrasted starkly with his black moustache, but it was his size and bulk that earned him his nickname of "Brutal". His tendency to kick people's asses when they deserved it might have also contributed, but…before he could dwell on it anymore, the eight Marines under his command arrived and plopped onto the ground before him, oblivious of the activity around them. They were in the company headquarters, stationed in the section of New Mombassa that 2nd Battalion had been assigned to. The African city had become an abandoned warzone ever since the Covenant landed, the only life in its streets were Marines and Covenant warriors engaged in heavy urban warfare, fighting for their very lives and, in the UNSC's case, their very existence.

"Listen up boys and girls." Brutal started once everyone was situated. "3rd Battalion's about to make a strike east at an important Covenant field HQ. Unfortunately, there's an artillery unit hammering them and keeping them distracted. It's estimated that a squad will be sufficient enough to eliminate this particular threat, but 3rd Battalion can't spare any squads to destroy the position. Since 2nd's close enough for rock and roll, it's been chosen to volunteer a squad to go. G Company was chosen…unfortunately, there's only one squad in Golf that's fully manned and operational." The six junior enlisted Marines began grumbling amongst themselves. "We'll head in on a Pelican, move to the position silently and on foot, destroy it, report back that we destroyed said position, and ride the bird back here." Brutal explained. "Valdez will be going along with us." he added, meaning Crewman Apprentice George Valdez, the 2nd Platoon Corpsman. "It's simple and straightforward. Let's head out Ricky Tick, Marines. Our ride leaves in ten minutes."

Eight minutes later, the nine Marines were assembled at one of G Company's launch pads. They all wore their standard armor, save for Brutal who had replaced his helmet with a patrol cap as most sergeants did. On the magnets on the back of his torso armor was an MA5C Assault Rifle. This weapon was also used by Corporal Hatcher, Lance Carson, Foley, and Cotton. Corporal Valance, Wesker, and Legs were each armed with a BR55HB SR Battle Rifle. Foley had an M90A Shotgun on his back. Copeland and Doc Valdez were armed with an M7 SMG each. All of the Marines had an M6G Magnum on the magnets on their thigh armor. They were all ready, and when they were deemed such, they boarded the passenger hold of one of the Pelican dropships. Fire Team Charlie took four of the five seats on the left, leaving the one closest to the cockpit open for Brutal. Delta Team took the right seats, Doc occupied the seat across from Brutal's. Sergeant Howell himself was in the cockpit discussing the plan with the pilots to make sure everything was set. When it was clear things were indeed set, he took his seat in the back. At the appropriate time, Pelican Victor Three Seven took to the skies and headed north towards their target, located in the crappy part of town: Old Mombassa.

The Marines rode in contemplative silence for several minutes, almost an hour, actually. Then Victor Three Seven reached the LZ, landed in an abandoned parking lot, and offloaded the 10 Marines (technically Valdez was a sailor in the UNSC Navy, but this wasn't a time for technicalities). As soon as their feet hit pavement, each Marine crouched in their appropriate position to cover the LZ against an unexpected attack. None came. When all ten were dirtside, Victor Three Seven went airborne and climbed to its standby station. All was quiet in the streets of Old Mombassa as the Marines moved out on foot. They still had a ways to go, but they had plenty of time. Their movement was quick and silent as they slipped through the streets like shadows. At one point, Sergeant Howell raised his hand with his fingers open to halt the squad. After flashing the appropriate hand signals, he and the rest of the squad dove into various pieces of cover and concealment. Several moments later, a Jackal squad walked by on their patrol before disappearing around a corner, unaware of the humans they passed.

The artillery position was simply three Wraith tanks, all currently unmanned. Mulling about were several Covenant soldiers. They were mostly Grunts, but there were some Jackals and a few Brutes. Not many altogether, enough that with the right attack, 2nd Squad could destroy them with little effort. Using stealth, Fire Team Charlie split into two teams and set satchel charges under two of the closer Wraiths before taking a position that gave them excellent fire on the infantry. Delta remained hidden behind a wrecked car. From his position, Brutal saw that the last Wraith had an open hatch. When he was sure they were ready, he nodded to Delta Team. Copeland, who had the best throwing arm in the whole platoon, then stood and primed a grenade before hurling it into the air. It arced at just the right moment, and had just entered the hatch of the third Wraith when it detonated, setting off a chain reaction of explosions from within. Corporal Valance then pressed the button on the detonator she held, causing the other two Wraiths to erupt into flames of blue and orange. The Covenant began looking about in confusion and panic. As the Brutes tried to restore order, they were cut down by Charlie Team. When the rest turned to face the human attackers, they were hit from behind by Delta Team. After several moments of sustained fire, the last Grunt dropped dead. Charlie emerged from its position and manually ensured the area was secure while Delta covered them. Corporal Hatcher flashed the clear sign, and Brutal ordered the squad to regroup.

"Anyone hit?" he asked as the others gathered about him.

"Me." Foley said as he held up his arm to reveal a light gash caused by Wraith shrapnel. As Doc set about patching it up, Howell contacted their ride.

"Victor Three Seven, this is Golf One Two, do you read me?" he asked into his comm.

"Roger that One Two, we read you loud and clear." came the reply.

"Three Seven, radio Golf Six Actual and inform him the artillery position is neutralized. We're heading to the LZ for exfil, how copy?"

"Solid copy, One Two, we're on the way. Over and out." With that, he rounded up the Marines, and they headed back the way they came. This time, they made sure to neutralize the Jackal Patrol.

The Marines entered the Pelican, and were making small talk as they sped back to base. None of them expected what happened next. Before Foley could finish explaining why he deserved to get laid the most out of the entire squad, the Pelican was jarred as something exploded. The pilots began crying over the radio, screaming the necessary codes and phrases signifying their current location…and the fact that Victor Three Seven was going down.

When Carson regained consciousness, his back hurt. He was able to move, so he doubted it was broken. It'd probably just been hurt in the crash. He looked up to see Hatcher unfastening his safety harness and helping him up to his feet. Doc Valdez was kneeling down to do the same with a slumped over Wesker when he noticed something. Doc reached out and pressed his first two fingers against Wesker's neck, held them there, then dropped them and sighed.

"Status reports, Charlie Team?" Howell asked as he stood and rearranged his cap.

"We're all here." Corporal Hatcher said as he helped Foley to his feet as well.

"Delta?" asked Brutal as he looked to their side of the passenger hold.

"Wesker's dead." Valdez said. He sighed again before removing Wesker's pouch of BR ammo and tossing it to Corporal Valance. He wasn't going to need it anymore.

"Doc, make sure everyone's okay. First person he clears, head outside and set up a perimeter. Anyone else who gets cleared, head out and help hold that perimeter. If Doc gives you the red light, stay inside." Brutal ordered before he disappeared into the cockpit. As Doc set about his triage work, Sergeant Howell moved the pilot's body so he could get to the radio controls. Setting the channel to the right frequency, he spoke into the mic.

"Golf Six Actual, this is Golf One Two, are you receiving me, over?" he asked. There was static for a few seconds before a voice replied.

"Roger that One Two, we read you. What's happened?"

"Golf Six, Victor Three Seven has been shot down, both pilots are dead, and I have one Marine KIA, the rest are being checked on medical status. We require another pick up at these coordinates, over." Brutal said as he used the dashboard computer to send the coordinates to Golf Company's Command Post. After several more moments of static, the reply came through.

"Negative, One Two we cannot send a bird to those coordinates. HIGHCOMM has just declared that section of the city a condemned sector and will initiate the Hammerdown Protocol there in roughly seventy-two hours, over." Howell's face paled considerably.

"Say again, Golf Six, did you say the 'Hammerdown Protocol', over?"

"Affirmative, One Two. They've pulled out all UNSC personnel in that area and will carpet bomb it into rubble to destroy the Covenant in that area. Hold one moment, over." Static overcame the line for so long that Brutal thought they'd lost connection or had intentionally cut it. He was proved wrong by the voice's return.

"One Two, this is Six Actual, there is one last friendly position in the condemned zone. It's evacuation had been postponed, and they won't be pulled back for forty-eight hours. We're sending you their coordinates, if you make it there in time, you can hitch a ride out with them, over." Brutal glanced at the computer screen and memorized the coordinates.

"Copy that Six Actual, my men and I are headed there now. Over and out." Brutal shut off the radio, sighed, and left to inform the others.


	2. The Hive

_**Disclaimer: **__See chapter 1 for the disclaimer._

Fire Team Charlie and Sergeant Howell ran up and across the street in a diagonal line. They reached the corner of a building on the intersection and held position there, covering all four streets.

"Charlie set, Delta bound." Brutal said into his comm. From down the street they'd just crossed, the three surviving members of Fire Team Delta, as well as Doc Valdez, came running up the street in the same path as Charlie, the whole time they were covered by the other team. When Delta reached Charlie's position, Brutal looked up the north street. They still had several blocks to go before turning west. Fortunately, it would then be a straight shot to the friendly position where they'd be picked up. Even more fortunately, it wasn't far away at all, 2nd Squad would make it long before their deadline was up. Hell, they'd make it long before sundown today.

"Delta, see that broken storefront?" Howell asked as he pointed to the store in question. When Corporal Valance gave the affirmative, Howell gave the order. He and Delta Team then ran for the store front while being covered by Charlie Team. Once they reached the safety of the store's interior, they halted.

"Delta set, Charlie bound." Brutal relayed, then helped Delta cover Charlie as they moved to the store. This was the act of bounding, a way for teams to leap frog from position to position, a trick well in use by militaries since the late 20th Century. They continued bounding north, and it wasn't until they were two blocks from the "turning point" that they ran into trouble.

"Charlie, see that-" Brutal started but was cut off by Corporal Hatcher.

"Movement." the Charlie Team Leader simply stated.

"Where?" Howell asked.

"Three blocks east, looks like a Grunt squad and two Jackals." Hatcher replied. Brutal looked that way and saw the enemies. He thought on what to do before giving his order.

"Charlie, head back one block. Delta will bound to your position, we'll then head west a couple of blocks before turning north to get back on the road." he ordered.

"Can't we just kill 'em?" Foley asked.

"There might be more in the area. If there are, they'd hear the shots, and I don't wanna risk us getting swarmed." Brutal replied. Moments later, 2nd Squad was moving on a road three blocks south of the road which would lead directly to the friendly position. They were in another building with a missing front. It was dark inside, and they couldn't see anything. Howell was contemplating there next move when someone passed gas rather loudly. Several members of the squad winced and grimaced in disgust. Then they began coughing and gagging once the smell hit.

"Jesus Christ, Cotton, I think a chunk of roadkill just exploded in your ass!" Foley scolded as he waved his hand in front of his face.

"Well, sorry! I didn't even feel it comin'!" Cotton replied. Even he himself was grimacing and gagging. Several members of the squad then groaned as another loud buzz was heard.

"Aw Christ, more?!" Foley asked in disbelief.

"Hey, I admit to the first one, but that second one was not me!" Cotton replied in self-defense.

"Bullshit!" Foley replied.

"I think he's telling the truth guys." Carson said, his gaze locked on the blackness at the back of the store. As if in agreement, another buzzing sound was heard. Then another, and another, and another. Realization dawned on Brutal's face as the buzzing grew to an insane chorus.

"Drones!!" he cried before the squad dashed out of the store and across the street to cover. They'd just barely reached it when a swarm of Drones burst from the shadows of the store and opened fire with their plasma pistols. 2nd Squad returned fire, destroying the silence of the abandoned streets with the bangs and cracks of automatic and burst-fire weapons. The giant bugs began falling dead to the ground, one by one until none remained. The squad reloaded their weapons, and Brutal was just about to call for a status report when a Brute roared down the street. Its unit of Covenant soldiers appeared around the corner and charged the Marines. 2nd Squad took cover and returned fire. Brutal ordered the teams to split, Charlie covered the left, Delta had the right.

"They're pulling back!" Hatcher cried as the Covenant soon turned tail and left. He stood and fire some more rounds into their backs when a Spike Grenade impaled itself into his shoulder. He cried in pain before it detonated, sending spikes flying everywhere. When the smoke cleared, Brutal and Doc arrived at Charlie's position.

"Hatch!" Foley screamed a he sat up from where he'd fallen over. One look and everyone knew Hatcher was dead. Doc sighed and closed Hatcher's eye.

"Anyone else hurt?" Brutal asked.

"My arm got scratched again." Foley said. "Same damn one, too." Valdez set about fixing up the new wound. Sergeant Howell turned to Carson, who just couldn't stop staring at his dead friend.

"Carson." Brutal said. "Carson!" he said again, this time getting the Marine's attention.

"Sir?" Carson asked.

"You're the new Charlie Leader…can you handle that?" Brutal said. Carson thought a moment before swallowing and nodding his head.

"Yes sir…I can." He replied.

"Good. Make sure you're team's set, then we move out." Brutal ordered. When all were ready, the squad moved out, short two of its beloved members.


	3. The Beast

_**Disclaimer: **__See chapter 1 for the disclaimer._

2nd Squad continued moving west. They were a tad concerned when the road ended, but there were no Marines around. They entered a very small shopping plaza, one which should've been in viewing distance of the 2nd Squad's destination. And it would've been except for the Scarab. The straight shot was blocked by a fallen Scarab. Its underside had become a wall blocking the fastest way to 2nd Squad's salvation.

"Aw, goddammit!" Foley exclaimed.

"Well what do we do now?" Legs asked.

"Alright, listen." Sergeant Howell started. Before he could continue, a low whining sound came to there ears. It was getting louder, closer.

"Banshee!" Corporal Valance hissed.

"Cover!" Brutal ordered. The squad split as Charlie Team dove into an open shoe store. Delta Team ran into a restaurant. Sergeant Howell and Doc Valdez sought shelter in a music store. A few moments later, the shadow of a Banshee passed over the plaza, unaware of the humans it had missed by mere seconds. About two minutes after the Banshee was gone, Brutal ordered the squad to form up. They did so, remaining wary for any other surprises.

"Okay, as I was saying before I was so rudely interrupted by our guest: we'll have to find another way to the position. We'll head south, cut west the first chance we get, and follow that road as far as we can before turning north back onto the straight shot. Now as that Banshee shows, the Covenant know we're here and they're looking for us. We'll have to be careful. Evasion's the key, we don't wanna get into a straight fight with these guys, there's a helluva lot more of them then us. Everyone got it?" Brutal explained. The squad gave their affirmatives, then they turned and left the plaza headed south.

There was no west-bound road for several blocks. Daylight was running short, and 2nd Squad was still heading south when they heard something.

"The hell was that?" asked Foley.

"Sounded like a howl." Copeland said.

"That wasn't no wolf." Foley said.

"That's what scares me." Carson added.

"How far away did that sound?" Legs asked. As if in answer, the howl roared again. The squad snapped its combined gaze to a nearby rooftop. There stood a Brute Captain armed with a Brute Shot. He roared again, but it was slowly drowned out by the sound of an approaching monster. 2nd Squad watched in horror as a Brute Chopper whipped around the corner and aligned itself with the Marines.

"Get off the street!!" Brutal cried as he and the squad dove into a nearby alley, barely dodging the Chopper's cannon shots. As they ran down the alley heading east, Carson glanced back and saw the Chopper pass north at high speed. They continued running until they reached the street on the other side. With a roar, the Chopper turned the corner and barreled south towards them. Carson grabbed Legs and fell onto his back, dragging her with him to the ground. The Chopper roared through the spot she would've been standing in had it not been for Carson. The two bolted back to their feet and followed the squad further east.

"There! Into that warehouse!" Corporal Valance cried. The squad made tale for the structure in question. It was missing a section of roof and wall. The front featured two large steel swinging doors, large enough for a big rig to pass through. In the side wall was a regular doorway, which the Marines used to enter.

"Shit!" Cotton screamed as he skipped to a stop near a Brute who had been inside with his Grunt squad. The Brute roared, grabbed Cotton by the breast plate of his armor, and hurled him across the warehouse. Cotton hit the concrete wall and fell to the floor. As it turned to the others, its face was destroyed by Foley's Shotgun. The others mopped up the Grunts with their weapons as Doc rushed to Cotton.

"You alright?" Valdez asked as he began feeling Cotton for broken bones.

"My leg hurts. It's hard to breathe." Cotton wheezed in reply.

"How's he doing?" Sergeant Howell asked.

"He's got three broken ribs and a twisted knee. The knee's not broken, but it'll be hard for him to walk." Valdez replied as he began wrapping Cotton's abdomen in medical tape. Under Brutal's orders, the other squad members set up a curved line of metal boxes, forming a section of cover in the center of the warehouse. Behind it, they all gathered to bottleneck the doorway until Cotton felt up to walking again. A few Jackals entered, but were cut down by fire before they made it more than a step into the warehouse. Things suddenly went quiet. The Marines sat there with their weapons trained on the doorway.

"You think they're gone?" Foley asked, finally breaking the silence.

"I don't kno-" Legs started, but was cut off by Carson.

"Wait! Listen." he said. They could hear a rumbling sound, faint but there. It started getting louder, closer. Brutal's face paled.

"Out of the center! Get to the sides!" he cried. The others obeyed, and the seven Marines abandoned the cover and ran to the walls…when they remembered Cotton.

"Shit!" Valance cried as she turned to rush back and get him. He had just reached his feet, pain etched into his face. Valance had taken no more than two steps when the large steel doors were thrown open by the boosting Chopper. Cotton's eyes went wide with surprise and fear in the moments before the Chopper's humongous spiked wheels shattered the barricade of boxes and slammed into him. The Chopper continued and slammed into the opposite wall, leaving a long red smear sprinkled with pieces of flesh and bone on the ground. Carson looked away and saw the faceless Brute corpse. Thinking fast, he snatched a Spike Grenade form its belt and ran towards the Chopper's driver seat. The Brute driving the Chopper was just starting to reverse when Carson came up, armed the Spike Grenade, and slammed it into the Brute's face. It roared in pain and rage. Carson turned and dove to the ground mere seconds before the grenade detonated, sending spikes flying everywhere. Everything went silent again before Carson finally stood. Doc came forward and did his usual routine to make sure he was okay. Corporal Valance was staring at the maimed and destroyed form leaning against the blood-stained wall, the figure that used to be Private Cotton.

"It's my fault." Valance said as Howell approached and stood behind her. "He was my rifleman, my responsibility…and I forgot him." She said as her eyes began watering. She hadn't felt guilt over Wesker's death. Saddened definitely, she just hadn't had a chance to show it…but not guilt. Wesker's death had been an accident, it wasn't her fault. But this…

"He was my responsibility too, Corporal." Brutal said behind her, causing her to turn and face him. "You're all my responsibility. And I forgot him too. I shouldn't have, but I did. Unfortunately, there's nothing we can do now. What's done is done…all we can do is keep going." Valance simply looked at him before lowering her head and nodding. After ensuring everyone was okay and that there were no more enemies about, 2nd Squad regrouped and headed out, once again short a member. But they still had a ways to go, and daylight was fading…


	4. Bad News

Disclaimer: See chapter 1 for the disclaimer

_**Disclaimer:**__ See chapter 1 for the disclaimer._

The Marines of 2nd Squad had set themselves on the right track and were thankful to be nearing their destination. The sun was setting, and they wanted to be in friendly territory before dark. They were remaining as quiet as possible. The incident with the Drones had shown them what noise could lead to: one dead Marine, one more telegram and folded flag. They continued walking through the city, its buildings remained silent, turning Old Mombassa into a dead concrete jungle. The city remained dead as the seven Marines turned the corner to see a medical tent at the end of a short street.

"We made it." Foley sighed with relief.

"Oh, thank God." Legs added as they walked toward it. They'd taken no more than four steps each when Brutal, Carson, and Valance noticed something was wrong. Even as the others talked excitedly about the fact that they'd made it, the three command responsible Marines were mentally racing to figure out what was wrong. Carson was the first to figure it out.

"There's nobody here." he said. This silenced the other conversations, and the whole squad froze in realization: they'd been so used to the silence and overall deadness of the city, they hadn't noticed that their destination was abandoned.

"Eyes open, Marines." Brutal ordered. "Let's try and find a radio or something, contact command and figure out what happened." The others took their spots in a formation, keeping all angles covered as they approached the position. As they neared, they saw several bodies of Marines in the tent, 2nd Squad conducted a short search of the nearby structures and were able to piece together what happened. But something still puzzled them…

"These bodies were put here." Copeland said. "They might've been killed here, but someone put 'em in this particular spot…almost like a CCP." he added, referring to a casualty collection point.

"Well, I doubt the Covenant would gather all the corpses unless it was to burn 'em or something, plus there are more in the other buildings." Corporal Valance said. "The Covenant would've gathered **all** of the bodies."

"So what do you figure happened?" Copeland asked.

"The Marines were attacked, and defended this post." Carson started. "When too many Marines died to hold the forward line, the survivors pulled back to the tent for a last stand. These bodies are the people who died in the tent's defense."

"So where are the rest?" Foley asked, his gaze was darting from shadow to shadow. The sun was almost gone, and he had the creeps.

"Maybe they got away?" Copeland asked.

"Where to, though?" Corporal Valance asked. "These guys died recently, if the others did get away, they couldn't have gotten far."

"Maybe Sarge'll figure it out when he gets that radio fixed." Foley said. "Now can we please go inside? I don't like being out here in the open, especially at night."

Sergeant Howell was inside the building directly next to the medical tent. During their search, he'd found a radio. While the rest of the squad further secured the area, he set about fixing the radio and contacting the company CP. Valdez was the only other one there with him, Brutal figured it'd be a good idea to have the corpsman nearby in case he screwed up and electrocuted himself or worse. As he was connecting some more wires, the rest of the Marines entered and informed him of their findings, as well as the fact that it would be night within five minutes.

"Well, if you're right and the others relocated, then we've got a few possible scenarios." Brutal said. "First: they managed to contact command, inform them of the attack and relocation, and we've got a new destination to reach before the end of tomorrow. Second: they couldn't contact Command, thus this will still be considered the pick-up point. We'd just have to wait for the exfil to show up, and help them find the others. If scenario two's true, we have another concern: if the Covenant are still in this area, the bird might be shot down either getting to or leaving here. When I get this radio fixed, I'll figure it out."

"How do you know how to fix that thing anyways, Sarge?" Foley asked.

"Before I made corporal and became a fire team leader, I was my platoon's RTO." Brutal replied. Foley was having trouble picturing his squad leader as a radio telephone operator. His doubts were washed away when the radio burst forth a sea of static as it came online. Smiling broadly, Brutal found the right frequency and spoke into the handset.

"Golf Six Actual, this is Golf One Two, I've reached the friendly position, how copy, over?" Brutal said. There was static for a few moments.

"Solid copy, One Two, we read you loud and clear." came the reply. "I'm guessing you're aware of the position's abandonment, over?"

"Roger that, what exactly happened, over?"

"A few minutes after we informed the position to expect you, we got a transmission from them. They were attacked and displacing. The survivors are now in a hotel not far from your position, it's in Sector 14 of New Mombassa. They said they were leaving you a radio, I'm guessing you found it, over."

"Affirmative, Six. So, I have to get to Section 14 and the hotel there before sundown tomorrow, over?"

"That's correct, One Two. Nothing much I can say other than to move Ricky Tick ASAP, over."

"Roger Six. Over and out." Brutal replied before cutting off the radio. The Marines sat in silence for several moments as the sunlight outside finally vanished.

"So…what do we do now?" Foley asked.

"We get some sleep and move out tomorrow. I want everyone up at 0500 hours… let's try and get some sleep." Brutal replied. And so, the Marines assigned watch shifts, and those who weren't on watch found spots, plopped down and tried to catch some shut-eye.


	5. The Line

_**Disclaimer: **__See Chapter 1 for disclaimer._

Lance Corporal Joseph Carson sat with his back against the wall, simply staring ahead. Around him, the remaining Marines of 2nd Squad were sleeping. The 7 of them had worked out a watch shift system between the 6 actual Marines taking shifts in teams of 2 every few hours. Doc was to sleep through the night so that if his medical skills were to truly be tested, he'd be fully rested. Carson's shift was with Legs, the remaining two Delta Team members Copeland and Corporal Valance would have the next shift, and Sergeant Howell had had the last shift with Foley, who Carson had no doubt would be bitching when the Delta shift woke him up later. If he had his math right, Foley'd get his revenge, because he and Brutal would be on watch when wake-up time would come at 5:00 AM. From his spot, Carson could see out of a large window which gave an excellent view of the street running east. Legs was next to him leaning against a stool, watching the same street as it was a dead end to the west at the medical tent's rear.

"God I'm so tired." Carson whispered. A sad fact of watch duty was that after a certain amount of time doing it, each person couldn't help but develop a "fuck it" attitude, or at the least their attention would wander severely to the point of daydreaming, leading to snoozing or even sleeping.

"I wonder how good the food was here." Legs whispered.

"What?" Carson asked turning to her.

"This place was a diner. The counter, the stools, the windows, this was definitely a diner. I was wondering how good the food was."

"Not as good as my mom's food, I can guarantee." Carson said, his mind filling with images of his home on a colony and all the delicious food his mom could make.

"Hey!" Legs whispered harshly smacking Carson's shoulder and bringing him back to an awakened state. "Don't fucking sleep on me, I can't see at night as good as you can. If either of us are gonna save our asses by seeing a sneak attack coming it's you. So stay the fuck awake."

"Sorry." Carson replied groggily. "I need entertainment to stay awake."

"Well what conversation topics can you think of?" Legs asked.

"I dunno." Carson said.

"Well what do you and Foley usually talk about?"

"Chicks." Carson said without hesitation. "You seriously gonna talk about chicks just to keep me awake?" he asked teasingly.

"The only chick I'm an authority on is me." Legs said. "Would talking about me keep you awake?" she asked.

"Sure." Carson said yawning. "What's your favorite position?" he asked. The idea was to mess with her, thus entertaining him and keeping him awake. But her response caught him way off guard.

"Suspended Congress." she said, then snickered at the surprised and confused look on Carson's face. "What can I say?" she continued. "It can be used anytime anywhere."

"…But what the fuck **is** that?!" he asked in honest bafflement. This only caused more snickering.

"Up against a wall." Legs said. The shock of getting a legitimate answer seemed to be keeping Carson awake just fine, so Legs to the moment to enjoy a nice quiet laugh at the expression on his face. "You ever used it?" she asked, again surprising Carson.

"Uh, n-no." Carson said, partly embarrassed.

"Well tell ya what," Legs said. "When we get out of here, I'll show ya what it's like." she said holding her hand out. "Deal?"

"…Deal." Carson said shaking her hand. They then sat in silence, each grinning goofy, amused grins. "Guess it's time to wake Valance and Copeland." he said after awhile.

"No need for that, Carson." Brutal's voice said before the squad leader rose from his sleeping spot, brining expressions of shock and gaping mouths to both watchmen's faces. "I'll trade with 'em to let 'em sleep more." Brutal said as he put his cap on and walked over to Foley, who slept with his helmet covering his face like a hat. It had the perk of muffling his snoring greatly. "For the record, two things," Brutal said over the CQC Specialist. "One: you two are the worst sentries ever." he said with a grin, then kicked Foley's helmet, jerking him from his slumber. "And two: don't let me catch you." he said with a smirk as Foley cursed his way out of sleep's grasp.

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At a little past six in the morning, 2nd Squad made the turn and came face to face with a construction site next door to an office tower. Directly across the street from the office tower was the hotel. On the outside a second floor balcony was visible. On this balcony was an M247 GPMG mounted facing the office tower. On the ground floor, a raised sidewalk area to be exact, another identical turret was visible aimed at the construction site. Marines were visible at these positions, as well as other parts of the balcony. 2nd Squad was smiling and high-fiving each other as Brutal activated his short-range comm.

"This is Sergeant Brutus Howell of the 507th Marines, contacting the Marine force in the fortified hotel, are you receiving me?" There was silence for a moment, and movement picked up at the hotel as Marines began moving about.

"Roger that Sergeant," a reply finally came, bringing a smile even to Brutal's face. "This is Lieutenant Morgan of the 31st Marines. My men and I have been expecting you, and would love it if you could join us."

"Roger that, sir." Brutal replied. "My men and I are approaching from the construction site southeast of your position, how copy?"

"Solid copy, Sergeant." Morgan replied. "Come on in." With a smile of relief on his face, Sergeant Howell lead 2nd Squad out of the construction site into the open park area before it. They were a few yards from under the site when the com burst to life.

"Sergeant, behind you!!!" a voice cried in alarm, one Howell didn't recognize. Before anyone could react, a Brute Chieftan, who'd leapt from the upper stories of the construction site, slammed into the ground landing on his feet. Upon landing, he slammed his Gravity Hammer onto the unsuspecting form of PFC Copeland, reducing the poor man to limbs and giblets. The impact sent out a wave of force knocking the whole squad to the ground several feet away. Gunfire opened up from Morgan's Fortress Hotel as the lower turret and several Battle Rifles converged their fire on the Chieftan he fell shortly, but his back up charged from areas surrounding the construction site. Brutal realized they'd walked right past several Covenant when they'd arrived.

"Get to the friendlies!" Brutal cried as he reached his feet. He dragged Foley to a standing and running position as 2nd Squad bolted for the hotel, bullets flying over their heads from the raised sidewalk and the second floor balcony. They climbed a small set of stairs and were ushered by a pair of Marines around a corner and into the double doors that served as the main entrance to the hotel. Before long the gunfire stopped, then Brutal and his Marines were lead to the back where they were told they could rearm and catch their breath.

"Also, Sergeant." one Marine said. "The El-Tee would like to see you when you're ready. You know, if you'd like to give your guy a moment of silence or something." he said that last part awkwardly, as if he wasn't sure what to say. Howell nodded, and the Marine took that as a signal to leave. When he was gone, Brutal turned to his men, particularly Corporal Valance, who was now the only surviving member of Fire Team Delta. Howell didn't know what it was like to lose your entire team, but he didn't want to find out.

"Everyone take your time," Brutal said quietly. "When you're ready, ammo and ready up. I'll be back." With that, he walked towards the door, stopping by Valance and putting a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry Marsha." he said.

A young private lead Sergeant Howell upstairs to an office where the hotel manager had probably done his business in saner times. Inside at the desk, with UNSC mobile computers around him, sat a man in standard Marine armor sans helmet, which sat on the desk facing the door. The gold bar painted onto the helmet's forehead confirmed Brutal's suspicion that this was Second Lieutenant Morgan.

"Welcome to our temporary home, Sergeant Howell." Morgan said as he returned the salutes he received from Brutal and the private, who left after a nod from the officer. "I'm glad to see you and your men, and I'm sorry for your loss." he said, but something about it didn't seem real to Brutal. When it came to officers, Marines' experiences usually led men to believe that good officers were those who rose to the officer pay-grades through the enlisted ranks. Officers who joined the Corps by graduating straight from OCS were usually thought of as being lower quality, as they had little combat experience. Only two out of ten junior officers with no enlisted experience were good officers. Brutal was willing to bet his next three paychecks that Morgan was one of the other eight.

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to put you in a position you may find uncomfortable, Sergeant." Lieutenant Morgan continued, his tone the same businessman tone he had when offering his condolences. "My senior NCO before you arrived was a Corporal named Lantermann. He was the one who tried warning you of the attack. He was also my only NCO. Now that you're here, that makes you my second in command until we're out of here. Are you comfortable with this?"

"Yes sir." Sergeant Howell said. "Do we have an ETA on the exfil birds?"

"0945 hours." Morgan said. "We just have to wait about three hours and we're home free. However, Covenant activity in the area has been steadily increasing over the past few hours. We're expecting an attack from a large, determined force. We're hoping to be out of here before it gets large enough to actually attack, but there's the possibility we'll still be here when they do. If that happens, we'll need to hold them off. There's no pulling back this time. This is our line in the sand. Do you understand, Sergeant?"

"Absolutely sir." Sergeant Howell replied.


	6. Stand

_**Disclaimer:** __See Chapter 1 for disclaimer._

Corporal Valance, Lance Carson, Legs, and Foley stood in the lobby of the hotel, fully restocked in ammo and supplies. Valance had been staring at the ground since they'd arrived, obviously shattered by the loss of Copeland, indeed her whole fire team. They'd all tried easing her guilt, explaining Copeland's death wasn't her fault. It hadn't helped. Like all combat leaders, she was certain she could've done something to prevent the loss of her men. She was now even feeling guilty over Wesker's death in the Pelican crash.

"Alright boys and girls." Brutal said as he descended the stairs and joined the quartet of Marines. "Here's what we've got: this was a small platoon stationed in the old part of the city as a sort of picket outpost. Since they arrived at their post, they've been suffering casualties daily. Now they're down to about 18, their senior noncom was a corporal, and they're expecting a large attack from Covenant forces any time now. Our pick-up bird arrives in about two and a half hours, so we just need to keep a look-out until then. If the Covenant does show up, we hold them off until exfil. Questions?"

"Where the hell's Doc?" Foley asked. Legs suddenly began looking around in panic, suddenly realizing she hadn't seen the medic since they'd arrived.

"He's checking for wounded in that last skirmish." Sergeant Howell replied. "The actual platoon medic was killed at the out post just before they pulled out, so Valdez is filling in."

"What kind of weaponry we got?" Carson asked.

"The heavy weapons jockey made it here when they pulled back, but he's since been KIA. His rocket launcher and ammo are in the armory they set up in the break room. Other than that its just rifles and Magnums."

"What do you think of the El-Tee?" Valance asked, breaking her silence. "Some of the Marines walking about have been saying some rather discerning things about him. About his ability to lead in combat." Brutal looked at his squad's surviving Marines and said nothing at first.

"You let me worry about the lieutenant." he finally said. "You guys worry about our defenses. I'm gonna tell you what Lieutenant Morgan told me: this is the last line. There's no falling back, no back-up. Just the birds comin' to get us outta here."

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The four Marines of 2nd Squad, sans Sergeant Howell, stood on the balcony of the hotel, near the mounted machine gun turret facing the office tower. They'd mingled with some of the other Marines, and more than a few of them had tried a pick-up line or two on Legs. She shrugged 'em off, as usual, but enjoyed the attention. A little over an hour and a half had passed since reaching the hotel, and a little under another hour and a half remained until the Pelicans arrived to get the 24 Marines out of the condemned sector.

"What do you think it means?" Foley asked, meaning the large monument to the left of the hotel facing the office tower.

"I don't know," Carson said. "It looks like some kinda Outer Colony art sculpture…thing."

"It's a shame it's not gonna be there tomorrow." Legs said looking at it. Carson suddenly realized that she was right. The whole reason they were leaving was the protocol which would cause this entire sector to be bombed into dust. None of these buildings or statues or bridges would be there tomorrow, they'd all be gone. Just dust and rubble. With sick horror, he realized the bodies of all the Marines at the med-tent, the pilots of Victor 37, and the four dead Marines of 2nd Squad would also be vaporized, no longer existing tomorrow. Considering the disfigurement of three of those bodies, he guessed it could be considered a mercy. But something still made Carson feel sad over it.

"I wish we weren't just leaving 'em here." Carson said aloud, his gaze locked on the monument.

"Who?" Legs asked.

"The guys. Goddamn, we were playing cards yesterday."

"Well, we couldn't really take them with us given our circumstances." Legs offered.

"And how fucked up they were." Valance said before wandering off.

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The clock in Brutal's HUD, displayed by the neural interface system all Marines had, but less advanced than the ones the higher officers had, said that it was almost 8:52 in the morning. Just 53 more minutes and they'd be out of this mess. He stood at another part of the balcony, having spent the whole morning inspecting the defenses and positions. Fortunately, the 24 Marines had set up in such a way that they could hold both the first and second floors, though holding the first alone would be easier. But the second floor's elevated field of fire was just too much of an advantage to leave alone. What bothered Howell, however, was that the defenses and plans hadn't been originated by the El-Tee. Sergeant Howell had met Corporal Lantermann, who'd explained Lieutenant Morgan's original plan, which had horrible troop placement and fields of fire. Corporal Lantermann had suggested an alternative, which Morgan accepted. Brutal was concerned that a corporal, the lowest you could get on the command ladder, had to come up with a plan for a trained combat officer. Granted, Howell was only one step above Lantermann on that ladder, but still, Morgan was _six _steps above Lantermann, and he apparently couldn't do it himself. This bothered Howell, especially considering the rumors he'd heard of the El-Tee. Brutal normally didn't listen to scuttlebutt, but he was starting to wonder…

"Bullshit." Carson said. Foley only nodded his head confidently.

"It's true. Flaming ninjas fucking chasing some poor schmuck throughout Tokyo. It was fucking badass."

"How would the ninjas be on fire?" Legs asked.

"Flame retardant suits." Foley said. "Come on, there's footage that proves it! You can look it up yourselves when you get a chance."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to waste what free time I have and do that." Carson replied, sarcasm practically dragging his voice to the depths. "While I'm at it-"

"Hey guys." Legs interrupted. "I think something's going on." The other Charlie Team members turned their heads and saw several Marines pointing toward the construction site, some using their rifle scopes to try and see better. Carson, Foley, and Legs turned their attention to the site just as Corporal Valance rejoined them, her rifle raised as she also used her scope for a better view.

"Whadduya see?" Foley asked.

"I'm not sure." Valance answered. "Something's going on over there. I've got movement, but I'm not sure what it cou-…oh shit." The construction site was ripped apart by blue flames and explosions as Covenant demolitions took it all down, the shockwaye throwing all the Marines either to the ground or into a wall. Carson was the first to his feet, and repeated Valance's last comment at what he saw. A flood of Covenant forces began advancing through the rubble, Jackals forming an energy shield phalanx up front, Grunts behind, and Brutes ordering them forward. Gunfire opened from the MG position on the ground floor, and soon the whole place erupted into cracks and chatter of bullets. Marines began calling out targets over the comms, yelling to be heard over the sounds of gunfire and incoming energy weapons. Carbine rounds,, plasma bolts, purple needles, they all began slamming into the walls around the Marines, some finding their marks on human flesh, or were deflected by the Marine armor. Carson and Foley were using short bursts on their Assault Rifles for increased accuracy, Legs and Corporal Valance simply had to set their Battle Rifles to "burst" and squeeze the trigger once for each three-round blast. Carson slammed a new magazine into his rifle and smacked the charging handle forward when the Marine on the balcony machine gun fell to the ground screaming and holding his eyes, blood spurting through his fingers. As another Marine dragged him to the CCP, Carson hopped on the M247 GPMG and immediately saw what to start shooting: a second wave of Covenant charging from the office tower, its front ground floor walls blown open by explosives as well. Without hesitation, Carson squeezed the trigger, compensating for the recoil, and kept his fire concentrated on the monsters surging forward with the sole purpose of mercilessly slaughtering him and all of his friends. He didn't know how long he fired at that wave, but after reloading, he continued firing, the wave never ending, a true sea of murder. This process of firing and reloading continued for God knows how long when Carson saw a Marine approacing him. He was carrying the rocket launcher but that wasn't the weird thing. The weird thing was that the Marine was casually strolling on the balcony, seemingly unaware or uncaring of the bolts of plasma and energy flying around him. He stopped by Carson, and when he spoke, his voice was that of a stereotypical Hollywood surfer.

"Don't worry, brah, I got this." he said, then cooly aimed the rocket launcher at the office tower from which the endless wave of Covenant was charging. He fired one rocket into a support on the second floor, then a matching one on the opposite side. Before the smoke and rubble cleared, the front half of the second floor collapsed, sealing the hole from which the wave was advancing, and effectively halting it. Carson turned to the Marine in disbelief as he cooly reloaded the launcher, and he could only think of one thing to say.

"Thanks, man."

"It's cool, brah." the Marine replied cooly, then truned and strode off as casually and calm as before.

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Sergeant Brutus Howell moved amongst the men on the ground floor, encouraging those who needed it, pointing out targets to those who needed them, and occasionally firing his rifle in bursts at the endless wave of oncoming enemies. The wall of bullets stemmed the tide, but the wave was inching closer and closer. Within minutes, the Covenant would be swarming all over the Marines, strangling them and ripping them to shreds in the name of their holy gods. Apprehension began gripping some Marines, and their aim began getting sloppy. Brutal would then appear, give encouraging words and fire with them, showing they were all in this together. It helped, but only so much.

"Sergeant, get up here ASAP." Lieutenant Morgan's voice crackled in Howell's comm. Brutal groaned inwardly and rushed inside, upstairs and into the office of the El-Tee, where he was "coordinating" the defense of the hotel. Morgan glanced from his monitors and stood. "Sergeant, I'm sure you're aware of the odds we face." he said. "Obviously our exfil won't arrive on time. So I propose a last stand. A glorious final defense of the Seventh Column." Brutal only stared for a moment before he spoke.

"Sir that monument's almost completely indefensible. Here we have a chance. These men can hold out, I know it, and when the birds get here they'll have weapons to cut a way out for us! We need to stay here."

"I disagree Sergeant." Morgan said, and only then did Howell notice the look in the officer's eyes. Lieutenant Morgan had snapped. "We're doomed. These men might as well go out in a blaze of glory, defending something worth fighting for. That statue represents humanity's unity. And there we will unite and die together as heroes." With that, Morgan grabbed his helmet and began walking toward the door. He was passing Sergeant Howell on his way to practically murdering his men when a gunshot banged in the quiet of the office. Morgan fell to the ground, a bullet wound in the back of his head. Brutal lowered the smoking Magnum he held, staring at the body. He felt nothing, was unsure of what he _should_ feel. He'd worry about it later. Right now his concern was saving as many of these Marines as possible…no matter what.


	7. Chaos

_**Disclaimer: **__See chapter 1 for disclaimer._

With the office tower blocked off, the Covenant's first wave was the only source of action, and so all the Marines had repositioned on the balcony to fire on them. Joseph Carson had seen a lot of action in his four years of service to the UNSC Marine Corps, but he'd never seen this much Covenant. Bullets and plasma flew back and forth, and the 24 man Marine garrison had been struck down to 17, most of which were on the ground floor. Shell casing hit the ground, magazines were replaced, and the Marines just kept firing. Carson was loading his last magazine for his Assault Rifle when a large violet round form came over the rubble, a teal glowing mortar mounted on top.

"WRAITH!!!" someone on the balcony shouted just before the Plasma Mortar fired.

"Inside now, go, go, go!!" Corporal Lantermann, cried, motioning the other balcony Marines inside. Legs, Carson, Foley, and Corporal Valance joined the others as they rushed through the doorway. Carson was one of the last ones through when the mortar landed, blasting the door and the wall around it. Marines were thrown to the floor, dust and rubble burying some. Carson coughed dust out of his lungs as he pulled himself from the rubble, grabbing the outstretched hand Legs offered.

"I'm okay." the Lance Coolie coughed.

"Lantermann's dead." Corporal Valance said, crouching by the body of the last Marine through the door. He hadn't escaped the blast of the plasma round. She stood and turned to the other Marines. "Everyone downstairs, ammo up. We've gotta reinforce the ground floor." Several "yes ma'am"'s and "on it"'s sounded as the group made there way downstairs. In the armory, Carson, Foley, Legs, and the others packed ammo magazines and grenades into their pouches. Soon Carson and Foley were the last ones leaving.

"Hey wait a minute." Foley said, stopping suddenly.

"What?" Carson asked. "We gotta go, come on!"

"Where the hell's Valance?" Foley asked. Carson shook his head.

"I don't know, she's probably outside with the res, so let's fucking go!" Carson replied.

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Outside, the surviving 16 Marines were gathered behind various barricades focused towards the oncoming Covenant. Carson took cover behind one and looked about at the various Jarheads, all focused on surviving. He sighed with relief when Sergeant Howell came to a stop near his position, directing the fire of a group of riflemen.

"Hey Sarge!" Carson yelled to be heard over the battle. "What're Morgan's orders?!"

"Morgan's dead." Brutal replied, crouching by Carson to reload his Assault Rifle.

"What?! How?!" His answer came in the form of a classic Brutal Look, the kind that told Carson to worry about it later. Carson instead focused on firing, using short controlled bursts to increase his accuracy. He was crouching to reload when Legs dove to cover beside him, the machine gun being wiped out by the Wraith, taking several Marines with it. Legs rose just enough to aim and fire over the barricade, her Battle Rifle set to semi-automatic to conserve ammo. She suddenly froze, her scope near the Wraith.

"Oh my God." she said.

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It'd taken Corporal Valance some work, but she'd navigated some alleys near the hotel and was now in throwing distance of the Wraith. It surprised her the Covenant hadn't used them to flank the Marines, but then again, Brutes earned their name from hard-hitting smash 'n' bash tactics. The Wraith was close enough that she could sprint to it without running into any Covenant, who were all on the other side of the armor piece. She was even more fortunate to see there was no one manning the plasma turret mounted on the front of the Wraith. She took a deep breath, squeezed the package she held, and began running. With a leap, she mounted one of the forward fins of the Wraith, maintaining her balance as she climbed to the hatch leading to the drivers compartment. She was only able to pry it open partially, so partially the driver didn't even notice. With a grunt of frustration, she fitted the package of explosives into the gap of the hatch. She still needed some tape to hold it in place, so she reached for it with her hand.

"CORPORAL, WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Brutal's voiced raged through her comm, making her jump and drop the tape. It fell to the ground, but Valance knew this was her only chance. Holding the charge in place with one hand, she pulled out the detonator with the other.

"This is for you, guys." she whispered to Wesker, Cotton, and Copeland, hoping they were listening before she pushed the button.

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The Wraith exploded in a flash of orange and blue, just like the ones they'd destroyed what seemed forever ago. Brutal was frozen in shock as he watched helplessly, realizing he'd lost his entire Fire Team Delta. Several Covenant were thrown to the ground by the explosion, but the majority just continued charging. The four 2nd Squad members couldn't even fire their weapons, though the rest of the Marines did just that. In that moment, Brutal, Carson, Legs, and Foley lost hope. They could only stare, frozen. They didn't know how long they stood there before they were shaken out of it by another explosion…the explosion of missile pod-fired rockets striking the ground. With a hiss, three Pelican dropships flew overhead.

"Ground forces, this is Juliet One Nine. We're prepared to cut a way out for ya, but you'll have to make your way to the Seventh Column monument, how copy, over?" a pilot said through the comm.

"Negative, One Nine, I don't understand, why can't you just pick us up here?" Brutal replied, his eyes on the open monument down the street, the one that provided no cover and would get anyone around it killed.

"LZ's too hot, the monument's by the riverside and is more easy for us to cover while we load you up, over."

"Mother fucker," Brutal muttered. "Roger that, we're on the way." he said before turning to the Marines. "Alright, you six, lay suppressive fire and fall back when I give the order, the rest of you get to the monument down the street!" Carson was one of the "rest of you", so he leaped to his feet and ran, following the others as they ran down the street. Some running towards the monument were cut down by plasma fire slamming into their backs. Ahead, Carson saw two Pelican settle down, hovering above the water of the river, their rear hatches open where two chain guns provided covering fire over the Marines' heads.

"Hold up!" Brutal yelled. "180, cover the others!" he cried before giving the fall back order to the other six back at the barricades. Carson and all the others stopped, turning around and kneeling to increase accuracy. They began burst firing past the six Marines bolting for the exfil birds, each silently begging the six to hurry their asses up. What shocked Carson was that Legs was one of them. A Marine running next to her fell with several scorch marks in his back. Soon, she was the only one still running towards the others. Carson was reloading his rifle when he noticed a shimmer, as if the air was miving towards her. She screamed as a Brute materialized beside her, holding the back of her neck and lifting her off the ground. Shocked, Carson could only watch as the Brute slammed the blades of his Spiker into her stomach, pulling it out forcefully and at an angle, splattering blood and gore on the street. Intestines dangled from the wound, which the Brute began expanding, seemingly relishing in her wails of anguish. More innards were pulled out by the time bullets slammed into the Brute dropping him like a rock. Carson, Foley, and Doc Valdez surged forward, running toward their fallen comrade. Carson and Valdez grabbed her arms and began dragging her towards the birds. She was blubbering incoherently, tears sliding down her pale as paper face. Blood formed a trail behind them as wide as Carson's waist. Foley was backpedaling behind them, firing his Shotgun in the direction of the oncoming Covenant. Carson and Doc jerked suddenly, as if Legs was stuck on something. Her screaming intensified by a thousand-fold.

"SOMETHING JUST PULLED, SOMETHING JUST FUCKING PULLED!!!!" she screamed. Carson followed the trail of intestines and saw Foley's foot on the end.

"FOLEY, GET OFF HER FUCKING GUTS!!" Valdez screamed. Foley turned, looked down, and moved his foot, his face paling considerably. He turned back and continued firing ad backpedaling as Carson and Doc dragged Legs even faster to stay ahead of Foley's blind retreat. Most of the Marines had already boarded and filled one Pelican, so with the help of another two, Carson and Valdez lifted Legs into the dropship. All they could do was lay her on the floor and keep her innards in a pile nearby. Brutal turned to the city and saw Foley was the only Marine still on the ground.

"Foley, get your ass on board, we're getting the fuck outta here!" he shouted. Foley turned and began running for the dropships, the turret providing covering fire over him. He suddenly screamed and began thrashing, before he was thrust forward by a pink mist. His chest slammed into the ramp of the Pelican, and Foley fell to the ground face down, his marred back visible to all. Brutal turned away and screamed toward the cockpit.

"We're all aboard, go, go, go!!" he cried before looking back sorrowfully, his eyes on Foley's corpse as the dropship rose and the hatch closed. He turned and watched as Valdez was scurrying to try and help Legs, even though they all knew it was no good, even Legs.

Carson watched her face as she continued babbling incoherently, no doubt on the edge of losing consciousness. She suddenly stopped babbling, her eyes glassy and staring forward. Doc stopped, threw his medkit to the side and screamed in frustration. Carson was numb. He wasn't in love with Legs, and he was pretty sure she wasn't in love with him, but dammit she was one of his best friends, and here he was practically sitting in her guts. He slumped back against an empty seat, and stared at her face the rest of the ride. He was alive. He'd survived. But his friends were gone, and he'd never see them again.

_**Author's Note: **__I fixed and extended part 6 for those who're interested. One last chapter remains, then I'll post a page answering any questions you guys wanna ask. Just PM them to me._


	8. Silent

_**Disclaimer:**__ See chapter 1 for disclaimer._

Lance Corporal Joseph Carson sat in the tent of 2nd Squad, alone. Before him was the card table, with the card game left on it by the Marines who were going to finish it upon return, but never would, for they would never return. Of the nine 2nd Squad Marines who'd set out days earlier, only two had returned. Carson could still hear his dead friends laughing and chatting amongst themselves, hoping he would always hear them, because he always wanted to remember them, and hoping the voices would stop, because they hurt too much. Doc Valdez had also taken it hard. Though he wasn't actually a member of 2nd Squad, he'd been one for the past two days. He was in the platoon's headquarters tent, though Carson hadn't seen him since the 13 surviving Marines had gotten their showers. Things had been different since the mission, with seven Marines dead. The tent was silent, even with the activity of the rest of the company outside. The tent flap opened, and Carson looked up as Sergeant Brutus Howell entered. Brutal at first only stood there in silence, then walked forward and took the seat across from Carson, staring at the cards like Carson had been. With a sigh, Brutal finally began talking.

"The families will be notified soon. They were gonna send Legs's body back home, but the battalion medical staff agreed it'd be more merciful if they didn't. Officially, it was never recovered."

"And unofficially?" Carson asked, his eyes never leaving the cards.

"The company's holding a burial ceremony and a memorial for the rest of the squad. The captain's given us his blessing on it, so it's official. We won't be called away halfway through for patrols or any of that bullshit." After Brutal finished, Carson was silent.

"And after that?" he finally asked.

"You and I are being pulled off the line and sent to the rear for leave. After that, you're getting put up a few steps," Brutal said before pulling a set of pouches out of his pocket and putting them on the corner of the card table, away from the cards themselves. The pouches were the insignia of a Corporal. "You'll receive training as a Fire Team Leader. Captain Feller says if you want it, the Charlie Team Leader position will be waiting for ya when you're finished."

"What about you?" Carson asked. "What're you doing after leave?" Now it was Brutal's turn to be silent.

"I did something at the hotel. I don't know what to do about it. I think I'll report it and face what consequences may come…but I'm not sure." he said. There was a knowing silence between the two. It continued, as neither could think of what to say. Suddenly, the ground began rumbling as in the distance, a sector of Old Mombasa was bombed to rubble by the Hammerdown Protocol. It continued for several minutes. When it finished, the silence resumed. Brutal finally stood and started walking towards the flap.

"Hey Sarge…" Carson said. Brutal stopped and turned to him. "…Is everything gonna be okay?"

Sergeant Brutus Howell stood there and thought on it, long and deep. Finally, he came to his one, honest conclusion.

"I don't know."

**Author's Note: **_Well, it took a year, but it's finished. Like I said, PM whatever questions you have regarding this story to me, and I'll answer them in an Afterward to be posted later. I'd also love to see as many reviews as possible. With that, I'm out._


	9. Author's Notes

**Author's Notes**

Hi all. This is Sergeant Conley with a bit of shameless story bumping.

When I first wrote this story, I had delusions of grandeur in which people would actually read it, and then there'd be more than a few readers who would have questions or two about the fic or its origins that I could answer in a sort of author Q&A. God I was naïve.

Well, recently Obsidian Productions (formerly Obsidian Thirteen, the originator of the Multiplayer Chronicles) has started adding "Author Commentary" chapters to his completed fics. They serve the same purpose of an author's notes section in a short story collection, and it was actually such author's notes sections that inspired my delusional hopes of the author Q&A. Inspired, I've decided to hop on the bandwagon and add author's notes of my own. Hopefully we'll get a full-blown trend started, 'cause in all honesty I love author's notes that explain fun trivia, how the story unfolded or was formed, its origins, etc.

First up is how I got roped into it: while reading through _Halo_ fanfiction about two years ago, I found Obsidian Thirteen's story _High Ground_, which was about a squad of Marines at the installation featured in the _Halo 3_ multiplayer map High Ground trying to outlast a horde of zombies, a la _Dawn of the Dead_. It was an amazing read, and Thirteen almost instantly became my favorite _Halo_ fic writer, especially after I read through his other stuff. Sometime later I learned that any volunteer writers could contribute to his Multiplayer Chronicles, and after reading _Valhalla_ I tried to sign on instantly. You see, he'd made a reference in that story to an incident at Standoff, and I wanted to write those events. Well, he'd already started on that, but he welcomed me to do whatever other available map/s I wanted.

I had the crazy idea of mixing two maps into one, and he gave me the green light.

The maps in question were both _Halo 2_ maps: Headlong (my favorite of that game) and Turf. Both maps are set in an African supercity briefly featured in the campaign, Headlong in New Mombasa, and Turf in the outlying and decrepit Old Mombasa.

If there's one kind of environment I love to see in shooting games or war movies, it's urban. There's just something about bands of soldiers fighting through a city, adapting its surroundings to their needs, I just can't really describe it. The only situation I love more than urban combat is the "surrounded in a fort" scenario.

So, using the creative liberties that only comes in fanfiction, I molded the two maps into a path, a path down which we the readers would follow our squad of Marines as they tried to overcome their challenge.

So I had my setting. Next step: the challenge, the conflict.

My answer came to me in the form of the movie _Cloverfield_. Towards the end of the movie, the Army National Guard, after seeing that everything they've used so far hasn't done a damn thing to the monster ravaging New York City, resorts to the Hammerdown Protocol, in which they carpet bomb the entire area the monster's in to rubble in a last ditch effort to kill it. Interestingly enough, there _is_ such a protocol in the US military's repertoire, though the name "Hammerdown Protocol" is fictional. It's used in case an enemy force overwhelms a location which contains materials that we just absolutely cannot let them get their hands on. So we bomb the shit out of it to do two things: get as many of the enemy as we can, and destroy whatever it is we don't want them getting.

I took the liberty of just using it to kill a bunch of genocidal aliens.

So we have a setting (the city) and a challenge (getting the fuck outta Dodge), but who's doing the GTFOing? A squad of Marines who, in all honesty, have no bit of originality to them whatsoever. In fact, almost every single name in this fic is a shout out or reference of some kind, some more vague than others.

First up is the squad leader. When I tried to picture this sergeant and assign him a name, I thought of actor David Morse in UNSC Marine armor with a patrol cap on his head. I'd recently seen and read _The Green Mile_, so the name Brutus "Brutal" Howell (played by Morse in the movie version) came right to me. I threw the name and image in as a shout out to the book and movie and made sure to include him in the disclaimer, but really he's nothing like the real Brutal. For that, you're better off reading the book.

Next was the guy who I intended to be the main character but who isn't due to my very obvious lack of talent (hopefully that's gotten better over the past year/two years). Again, no originality, just a name, Joseph Carson, specifically the name of the protagonist in my first idea for a video game (I plan on becoming a video game designer by profession).

His best friend is the required-by-law squad joker, Alton Foley. His surname is a mini-shout out to a _Battlefield 2_ fic written by my friend and occasional beta-reader TheSpazzo, who used the name for his own squad smartass. Plus I just like the name Foley, my personal favorite example being professional wrestler Mick Foley. His entrance music never fails to make me smile and/or cheer. His given name of Alton/"Alt", however, is a more "legit" shout out. You see, my favorite writer is Stephen King, and in 1998 he wrote an original screenplay for a two-part TV mini-series that aired on ABC called _Storm of the Century_ (I highly recommend it). In the series, the protagonist's best friend and deputy is a man named Alton "Alt/Hatch" Hatcher.

Yes, that's where David Hatcher's surname and nickname come from. "David" is just a common name I pulled out.

Kelly "Legs" Leggard is one of my (very, very) few attempts at disguising a shout out. The surname and nickname come from the radio telephone operator in the _Brothers in Arms_ game series, Kevin Leggett. I just decided to try and come up with a new name that could be shortened to "Legs". By the way, that scene in the diner? That came from a bad idea I had at the time to try and include a sex scene, or a mention of one. Common sense bitch-slapped me though and instead I threw in this humorous moment. Less humorous than that though is the moment during the dust-off scene when Foley steps on her intestines and she starts screaming _"SOMETHING PULLED, SOMETHING JUST FUCKING PULLED!"_ That's a reference to the novel _The Running Man_, written by Stephen King and published under the pseudonym Richard Bachman.

Marsha Valance's surname is a shout out to the western film _The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance_, of course. Marsha's just another common name I dredged up. Recently, I found a trope on TV Tropes(dot)org called "Vasquez Always Dies", which says that in a story involving a military force of some kind and a pretty female lead who may or may not be part of that same military force, there'll more often than not be a less attractive woman in that military force who's a strong supporting character. But no matter how skilled she is or how well she's armed or trained, she'll die while the beautiful female lead survives. I was glad that I at least partially subverted it by killing off Legs as well.

I've only played one _Resident Evil_ game and read the book based on the first one, but anyone even partially familiar with zombies and games should figure out who Wesker's name is a reference to.

Copeland's name comes from a forum-based RPG I'm a part of based on the Colonial Marines from the movie _Aliens_ (who served as inspiration for the design of the UNSC Marines). Copeland is the name of our company medical officer.

Cotton is the name of Hank Hill's dad in the animated series _King of the Hill_.

Lieutenant Morgan's name is the other disguised shout out, but it's disguised because I didn't want people to get it immediately and figure out he was gonna snap (although my bad foreshadowing probably made that obvious anyway). "Morgan" is an anagram of "Gorman", the name of the Colonial Marine officer in _Aliens_ who freezes up in combat. Unlike Morgan though, Gorman redeems himself in the end, though he and Vasquez take out several Xenomorphs with them by way of a grenade.

The two-bit wonder Corporal Lantermann is named after my US History teacher. I really just couldn't think of anything else.

Valdez is probably the only name in this whole fanfiction that doesn't have an origin to it.

For anyone curious enough, the card game they're playing at the beginning is a game called "Bullshit". It comes from a crappy romantic comedy movie (_How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days_, I think), but it's a damn fun game to play.

I forgot something and am now editing it in: the "surfer guy". In the book _Black Hawk Down_, there's a moment where, while pinned down around the first crash site, a couple of Rangers keep getting harassed by a heavy weapon of some kind. From the window of the building they're using as an HQ, this "stereotypical surfer" voice asks them where the fire's coming from. It's an unnamed Delta Force Operator who coolly tells them that he'll take care of it, and blasts the fire's origin with an under-barrel grenade launcher. This was my version of such a moment, and a little shout out to that D-Boy, wherever he is.

And that's all for that. The Multiplayer Chronicles kinda shut down because Obsidian took down all his stories to repost them in an organized manner involving chronology and series and stuff, so right now all you can find is mine and one based on Ghost Town, but I recommend it. You'll have to change the rating thing in the community page because it's an M-rated story. If Obsidian gets the others reposted, I suggest checking them out too.

And so today, two years to the day since posting this story and one year to the day since finishing it, I say farewell to this story for the last time.


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